I killed him for you.

1

The previous killing was a bullet to the heart, and the aim was accurate. But this victim was irritating, moving back and forth like a broken pendulum. Despite my warning to him in silence, he kept talking about ‘our days together,’ his love for me, and his kisses on my body. I won’t deny that he was good in bed, but I despised him. I married him because he was my boss, and he treated me like a whore. I married the third one because he was my colleague, and he saw me while I was killing him. And now, this one, his colleague, will kill him because he told him what he saw.

2

I feel like a shadow that can do nothing but be dominated by any spot of light that falls upon it. I have to do something. I grabbed the phone, but my hand was trembling. His number was saved in my phone for the twenty-third time, and he never answers. I’m spinning like a devilish witch in circles inside my hotel room. I hope he doesn’t kill him, so I won’t be imprisoned in his foul embrace.

3

I won’t sit still in my place. I have to move, but my feet won’t carry me. I feel them like two pieces of rubber. I won’t wait until he barges into my room to tell me, ‘I killed him for you, and now we must get married.’ And then what will I say to him? ‘I don’t love you.’

4

I expect his reaction will be to kill me before I finish my sentence. I can’t live in a maze of hatred. I get rid of a man I hate to marry another man I hate with disgust. I drank a bottle of water at once. I feel like my throat is being torn apart by thick nails. My phone rings. ‘It’s him.’ I know the news he’s going to give me. ‘He killed him and is returning the favor.’ For the first time, I feel that the ringtone of my phone is scary. ‘If I Killed Someone For You.’

That’s when I’ll answer him, ‘And I will kill you for him.’

‘Hello.’

‘Hello, my love.’

‘What’s up?’

‘I don’t understand, my love.’

‘I called you more than 23 times, and you didn’t answer, and now you’re calling me at 3 in the morning. I was preparing a surprise for you. Five minutes, and I’ll be close to you. We must celebrate.’

5

My tongue is dry, like a burning fork. ’What does he mean by ‘the surprise’? I felt a cold water washing over me. It’s as if my soul is slowly spitting out my body. My face wrinkles like plastic over fire. I tore off my black shirt, exposing my sweaty breasts. I put on the open robe.

6

. My body should be free, I like to look at my naked body when I have a panic attack, I occupy my mind with meditating on the perfect details of my body, then I feel comfortable, my lungs absorb the largest amount of fresh air, calmness tickles me, I feel satisfied, it is still the same as I have the same charm and the same beauty Sacred, so I shouldn’t worry

7

I left the door of my room wide and made me a magic drink of boiled chamomile mixed with aged grape juice. It has been my drink since my first marriage, and now I will celebrate the death of my third husband at the hands of my fourth dead husband.

“The drink is perfect”

8

Ali entered with a huge bag of clothes, wearing a “tight-fitting tux with a single button and penny perforated round-toe loafers”, to my provocation, his black hair shining as if it had been washed with pig’s fat, framing his face with a broad, stupid nose, adorned with a black mustache like a bath loofah, Beneath him is the smile of a disgusting clown, erecting his short stature proudly, as if he were the actor Leonardi Caprio.

“Oh silly”

_”You’re a charmer, my love.”

9

I kissed him sticky like cheap soap with which he washed my lower lip, I let him worship in my body and offer his saliva as an offering to wash my feet with which I pushed him and he fell on his face

“What’s the surprise? My love.”

10

He opened the bag and took out a head, not his head, but another head, that head I know well, how many times I kissed his eyes, his mouth, his ear, how much I pulled his hair while I was at the height of my lust, this red hanging tongue like fresh strawberry-flavored ice cream, how many times I sucked it violently and how many times How many times did I bite him, how many times did he talk to me about enchanting dreams, and how many times did he mention dozens of love verses that made me feel for the first time that I was a saint…how many times did he wash my body with his healing saliva, how many times did he promise me a small family, a beautiful son and a grandson He entertains our old age in front of the fireplace

11

That head is the head of my beloved, the only man I ever loved. I wanted to live with him and marry him three times. I killed two. I plan to kill the third. I wanted to kill all the men in the world to keep him alone. It stains everything, the carpet, the sofa, the wine glasses, I feel it staining everything, the brown hair of his head being held by the man I hate the most in the world, moving his head in contempt, as if a ball had been slashed in half by a knife.

12

How could he do that? Doesn’t he know how sacred this poetry is, in which I was burying my face, so I feel calm and want to scream, “You damned, what have you done?”

_ “do you know him ?” he asked me monkey coldly

I contemplated with those sparkling eyes on which a look of eternal astonishment was fixed above, how many times I flirted in those hazel eyes like a plate of sunlight wrapped in a thick black cloud

_”No” I said as if I was shooting a bullet in my heart

13

You saw him with your husband, confessing your love to him without shame, and asking him to leave you in peace, that he wants to be united with you forever, you saw him kissing your husband’s hands, begging humiliatingly, and prostrating at the bottom of his feet.

Then I finished him off with my sharpened dagger and killed him

14

Your husband was stunned, the blood washed his feet, and before he screamed, his throat was half open and about to scream. Then I slaughtered him too. The blood of the two dogs mixed together over the knife that shines in front of you. But I brought you the head of this strange orphan only. I wanted to know.

_”Did you love him as he claims, or is he crazy?”

_ I do not know him

_ I knew he was crazy

Well, honey, put his head in the bag and lock it up, and I’ll bury it with your husband

15

I held his head with both hands and embraced it. The blood that flowed from it washed my body. I smelled his hair for the last time. He loved him so much that he used to buy him a special perfume made by a perfumer for him alone. I looked at his eyes before slowly closing the zip of the bag.